The Eye of Solzan
by Crossfire.ue
Summary: An ancient artifact, lost and forgotten for ages, begins to work it's influences on the residents of a small town on the edge of the human kingdoms. A trio of friends must seek out the truth. Rated M for violence and mature themes.
1. Prologue

**THE EYE OF SOLZAN**

**Prologue**

Sir Tehodre Burjor stepped lively to one side as a body fell to the ground next to him, thrown from the battlements above by a blast of flame. The greenskin spell casters were in fine form, throwing bolts of lighting and balls of fire against the mighty walls of the keep. The cliffs of the valley echoed the screams and sounds of the battle that raged on.

Burjor grabbed a passing warrior whose face was heavily tatooed in the style of the southern clans. "Man the walls!" Burjor cried. "We need to hold them off longer! Get every man up there, and get them bows!"

The warrior nodded and continued his sprint, heading up the ash-covered steps to the walls above. Within seconds he was dead in the courtyard, thrown there by another flash of light.

Soot filled the air, raining down on Burjor and the gathered human army and obscuring the full size of the goblinoid army beyond the walls. They could see it was tens upon thousands strong, but they could not see that the numbers were reaching close to one hundred thousand. Goblins, orcs, hobgoblins, ogres and more filled the valley, all of them intent on wiping the humans from the map. Not just this keep, but the whole race.

Burjor fell back towards the cliff face which the keep backed against. Many of it's halls were burrowed through that rock by dwarven smiths, and deep within those halls sat what he hoped was going to save all of their lives. The masterfully engraved doors stood open, and as he passed through them he ordered them closed. A team of oxen pulled on the tethers that helped swing the massive stone doors shut. They closed with a deep rumble and immediately blocked out the sound of approaching death beyond them. Burjor stood in the silence for a moment, with only the sound and smell of the oxen and the nervous shuffling of the KeepGuards.

"The doors stay closed," Burjor ordered, and stomped off down the wide corridor.

Beneath the cliff, the corridors of the keep were cool and silent, lit to a golden hue by hanging lamps that stayed lit at all times without need for oil. Burjor didn't notice the massive tapestries or works of art as he moved through the corridors, up ramps and stairways and through heavy wooden doors. Crossing through a wide circular foyer, he came to a huge door and two KeepGuards.

"I will pass," Burjor snapped, and the guards stood aside. Pushing through the door, he was met with a blast of cool air.

Across the small chamber from him, the entire wall of the room was open to the valley below. The sound of battle reached this high and, being above the falling ash, he could clearly see the full scale of the attacking force.

"By the Gods," he hissed, rushing forward and leaning out over the keep below where his men continued to die. The enemy force filled the valley from east to wet, north to south. They looked like a writhing dark sea and sounded like nothing he had ever heard before.

One of the three men already in the chamber pulled Burjor back from the brink. "Commander," he said. "We are not ready."

Burjor turned to regard the speaker. He was ancient, skin stretched over bone and not much else. A wisp of white hair clung to the top of his head like a fog. His eyes, however, were bright and strong. His name was Extens, and he was the most powerful spellcaster in the human realms. The reason he was here instead of fighting below was sitting in the center of the stone pedestal that sat in the middle of the room.

It resembled a large yellow diamond, a maelstrom spinning deep in it's center that you could not look directly at, for it avoided being seen. It always danced just on the edge of your focus, and whispered secrets to you. Burjor tore his eyes from it and glared at Extens.

"I don't care, we're being decimated out there!" he snapped, gesturing to the space beyond the wall. A breeze gusted in and whipped Burjor's mud-spattered cloak around him. "If we don't use the Eye now, we could all be killed! Everyone! The whole human race depends on _us_!"

"Using the Eye now could kill us all anyhow," Extens replied. "We are not finished the ritual. You storming in here like that interrupted us. We need at least another hour!"

Burjor went to the edge of the wall again. A fireball exploded in the courtyard. There were orcs on the battlements. "We have minutes. Use the Eye."

"It will kill us all!" one of the others cried. He was a student of Extens, young and frightened.

Burjor spun on him. "We were born to die, young one," he barked. "Better us here, and just us, than your mother back home in Keris, your brothers and sisters, your wife, eh?"

Extens sighed deeply and turned to the students. "We use the Eye. Pray to Solzan. It is his power we channel now. Commander, you may want to leave."

Burjor stood his ground. "I stay."

The three wizards gathered around the gem and linked hands. A strange chant lifted from them and the gem's maelstrom grew larger and brighter, eventually outgrowing the gem and filling the chamber with rainbow colours. Extens's chanting grew louder and more desperate. The young student was the first to be consumed by the Eye.

In the keep below, a growing light from above made everyone - even the greenskins - stop and look up. A hole had formed in the side of the cliff above the courtyard and a brilliant glow came from it. Far off in the trampled plains of the valley, the goblinoid army all looked towards the light. Some of the greenskins began to back away, as though a few extra feet between them and the human keep would save them.

With no climax, the light suddenly expanded outwards. In the blink of an eye, one hundred and fifty thousand greenskins were vapourized, and over fifteen hundred humans were turned to ash. The keep grew quiet.

The Eye waited.


	2. Chapter 1

This story is loosely based upon the adventures played out in a tabletop Dungeons & Dragons campaign that has been running for several years. Please read & review. Thanks.

THE EYE OF SOLZAN

Chapter One

Wind whipped across the barren hillside, with only scrub grass to keep the dusty earth from blowing away. The wind ran along the shallow slope, leaping over large rocks deposited aeons ago by exploding volcanoes and shifting towers of ice. Some of those rocks, however, were worked by men and held more squarish shapes, some etched with ancient symbols and runes that no longer meant anything to anybody. These stones had fallen from the deteriorating walls of a squat tower that stood at the crest of the hill. The wind danced and sang around this crumbling structure before continuing it's race southward towards the mountains.

Inside the tower, a ruined staircase led to what remained of the rooftop. Anyone with sense would stay off of those steps and forget about trying to see the view from the top of the tower, but as the residents of William's Ford often said, Casper Drake and Tyson Ostersaad had little sense. If anyone of the small frontier town ever doubted this, they would have had proof positive if they had been standing in the rubble-strewn interior of the tower at that moment.

"Gods!" Casper cried out as a stone step gave way under his weight and crashed, twenty feet, to the base of the tower. Reaching out, he managed to grab hold of the next step and hang there, his booted feet suspended just out of reach of Tyson who stood on the next step down. The ruined stone clattered and echoed below them. With a bit of effort, Casper clambered his way up onto the next wide step, which seemed solid under his weight.

"I nearly filled my trousers," Tyson laughed. At twelve years of age, jokes made about bowel movements were still the most humourous thing the boys could imagine.

Casper breathed heavily and smiled down at his friend. "You did? What about me? Now come on, we've got a ways to go yet."

"Move back," Tyson ordered, and then leapt out over the empty space left by the fallen step. Grabbing hold of the next one up, Casper helped Tyson up, and they continued skyward.

And so the boys climbed, experiencing a handful of close calls on their way to the top, never a thought to how they were going to get down again. All that mattered was the destination, and to the abyss with what came afterward. Such was their childhood on the frontier.

William's Ford, named for Sir William of Halus, was founded only a few decades prior to the birth of Tyson and Casper. The land, given to Sir William as payment for the campaigns he commanded for the King, was on the southern frontier of the kingdom in a part of the realm still wild with strange and aberrant creatures. However, the lands were rich with wood, ore, and fine earth for growing crops and Sir William brought his best men with him to help clear out an area to build. For twenty years Sir William and the men of William's Ford fought back the wilds, cleared the forests and sowed the land. Invasions by marauding creatures wer nearly unheard of by the time Tyson was born, and William's Ford was prospering. The town became a major exporter to the rest of the realm, people crying out for the area's fine ironwood, furs and plump fruits and vegetables.

The town attracted those looking to start anew or those bored of urban life in the large centers of the north. The frontier promised easy riches to those willing to do hard work, and they came in droves. Haans Ostersaad arrived with his new wife when Sir William put out a call for skilled tradesmen. An experienced carpenter, Haans was never without work in the growing town.

The Ostersaads were a pious people, and it was no surprise when their young son Tyson expressed interest in working with Father Wolfram and the Church of Solzan. The boy had a talent for the healing arts, and was a boon to the small town as Wolfram spent more time at The Running Kobold examining the bottom of an ale mug than he did at the church. Even so, Tyson often ran off into the wilds with his friends to explore the strange ruins that existed there.

The Drakes were Ol'Forders, meaning they had come to the area with the first wave of settlers and Sir William himself. Guilheim Drake was an alchemist of reknowned from the Aliad Peninsula and he opened an apothecary in the new town. His wife, Alhana, died giving birth to Casper and the young lad was brought up by Guilheim in the family shop. By ten years of age, Casper could readily find and name important roots, herbs, berries and leaves and rhyme of their properties and what they could be mixed with to create helpful salves and oils. Despite this, Casper had no interest in alchemy or running the apothecary. Casper's interest lay in the arcane, and it was this passion that drove many of the explorations into the strange ruins to the south of William's Ford.

Tyson hauled himself up on to what remained of the stone battlements of the ancient tower. Sixty feet up from the grassy hillside, the wind played strongly there, unobstructed by grass, rocks or towers. Casper stood on the edge of the tower, his black hair ruffling in the strong breeze. He gazed south into the foothills that rose up beneath the Blue Mountains.

Casper was a slight lad, tall and narrow-shouldered with shaggy hair. His father was the same, with a longer face and gaunt look that made you think twice about crossing him even though he wasn't physically impressive. People say that Casper had his mother's face, and it made him look younger than he was. He had his mother's eyes too, and for some reason that made some of the Ol'Forders whisper quietly amongst themselves.

"Look!" he called out to Tyson over the sound of the wind. He pointed south, gesturing to a broken strip of stone work that wound through the hills. "Look how far it goes!"

The boys had never been further from William's Ford before, and prior to climbing the tower they had found a raised line of broken stone, the remains of an ancient road that came to and end downhill from the tower. From the top, they could see it's cracked line disappear into the southern hills. Casper itched to follow it to it's end.

Tyson almost read the other boy's mind. "We didn't bring enough food," he said while peering over the edge of the tower. "And I haven't seen anything we could hunt since we passed the Tomlins' farm."

Casper considered this. They had spent the night in one of the Tomlins' outbuildings and had travelled almost another full day from there. They would have to sleep in this tower and head back in the morning. Tyson was right though, they hadn't enough food to get any further away from town. Even as it was, his father would tan his hide for being gone so long.

"We'll have to bring even more next time," Casper remarked, hopping down off of the stone ledge. "Maybe bring some silvers to buy food from Mister Tomlins. There's probably at least a dozen ruins in those hills that we can't see."

Tyson nodded. "We should see if Luthor and Darius want to come along, too."

Casper made a non-commital sound as he inspected engravings along the inside of the tower's battlements. He traced a finger along the runes and muttered something quietly to himself that to Tyson sounded like gibberish.

"What did you say?" Tyson asked, pushing wisps of blonde hair out of his eyes. Sometimes, he admitted to himself, Casper could be pretty creepy.

Tyson was heavier set than Casper, barrel-chested and broad shouldered, though not overly muscular. Helping his father with the carpentry business had given Tyson a strong upper body, even for a boy his age. His face was soft and compassionate like his mother's, as well as his bright hazel eyes. Some thought Tyson to be overly emotional, mistaking his passion for the people of his town as some kind of weakness. Tyson believed strongly in the love and power of Solzan.

Casper looked up from the runes. "Hmm? Oh, nothing... just wondering what this says. I wonder if it's a spell."

Tyson laughed. "It probably says 'Francoix was here'!"

Casper smiled and nodded. "Yeah, probably. 'Francoix was here, and let a shit over the edge'!"

"I thought that I smelled something, but I figured it was you!" Tyson quipped, and then prepared for the inevitable punch in the shoulder. It came, and the boys wrestled for a few short moments before collapsing, breathless and laughing.

"Come on, let's get down from here," Tyson finally said.

Heading down was just as risky as climbing up, and they had nearly made it to the bottom when Casper fell.

It was just a little over ten feet, but the stone strewn across the bottom of the tower made things infinitely worse. Casper landed poorly, twisted his knee and cracking himself on the arm quite badly on a fallen stepstone. Casper shouted in pain, and Tyson jumped over the rubble to get to him.

"Oh no," Tyson said after quickly inspecting the injuries. "You broke your arm!"

"And my leg, too, I think," Casper replied through gritted teeth.

"No, that's just sprained," Tyson said while pulling the small pack off of his shoulder. He dropped it amongst the stones and pulled out a squat ceramic pot with a large cork stopper. Opening it, a pungeunt stench eminated from it. He then pulled Casper's trouser leg up past the sprained knee.

"Oh no... blood root?" Casper moaned, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You know what it does," Tyson remarked quickly, dipping three fingers deep into the thick salve.

"It won't fix a broken arm!"

Tyson shook his head. "No, but it will help your knee, now don't move."

Tyson covered Casper's injured knee in the sticky substance and then pulled a strip of cloth from his pack, tying it tightly around the knee and salve, and then pulled the trouser leg down again. "How's that?" he asked, placing a hand on the injury.

"Better," Casper gasped. "But my arm...!"

"Well," Tyson said meekly. "Father Wolfram showed me..."

"That drunk? He showed you a whiskey bottle, most likely!"

"Oh hush!" Tyson snapped, and placed a hand on Casper's sweaty forehead, and a hand on the broken arm. What Tyson did next he could only call 'floating'.

Physically his body stayed put in the tower, but his mind soared high into a world of water and sunshine. Pure warmth flooded through Tyson, and he called the warmth Solzan. Half aware of Casper, Tyson tried to channel the warmth into Casper's arm. There was a sharp gasp from somewhere, and Casper shouted something.

Tyson dropped back into the ruined tower and opened his eyes. Casper was staring at him.

"Gods! You can heal!" Casper hissed, feeling his arm and wincing. "Sort of..."Tyson smiled shyly. "I can do other things, too, but it's really hard. Father Wolfram taught me some stuff, but mostly I read and commune."

They sat silently for a moment, staring at the stones around them.

"I figured you'd laugh all the way back home," Tyson admitted.

Casper shook his head. "No, I won't. I can do things, too."

"Things? You can heal?" Tyson asked, unconvinced.

Casper laughed. "Hah! No, not me. Nothing like that. You wanted to know what I was saying on the roof? I was trying to read the runes."

"How?"

Casper stood, wobbling a bit on the sore knee. "I don't know. It just comes to me, and I know how to use it. I can read Belach's books, for one thing."

Tyson was taken aback, and said nothing for a moment. Belach was the proprietor of The Running Kobold, and a one-time cohort of Sir William. It was no secret that Belach was a wizard in his younger days. Though not actively adventuring any longer, Belach still had many magic artifacts and his spellbooks, though nobody could read the books and learn his secrets.

Nobody but Casper, it seemed.

"Belach knows," Casper added. "He's shown me a bit of what I can do, but he says we're different. He says he has to learn and study, but it comes to me naturally. He says I'm lucky, and that I should be happy about this."

"Aren't you?" Tyson asked.

"I guess I am. Father doesn't know, I'm afraid he'll be angry. He hates Belach, I don't want him to hate me."

The pair were quiet again for a moment before Tyson picked up his pack again.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

Casper put some weight on his injured knee. "Yes, I think so."

Tyson turned, took three steps towards the archway that led out to the hill, and disappeared.


	3. Chapter 2

**THE EYE OF SOLZAN**

**Chapter Two**

"Tyson!" Casper cried out. To him, it seemed as though his friend had been swallowed by the earth. There was a distant thump, and Casper surged forward, limping slightly, to see what had happened.

Just over a fallen stone, Casper saw a three by three hole in the ground, a trap door previously hidden by dust and debris. A little less than ten feet down, he could see Tyson sitting on a stoneworked floor, looking up with wide eyes. He was surrounded by grey-brown splinters of wood and bands of rusted iron.

"We're not having any luck today, are we?" Tyson asked grimly.

"Maybe not with gravity," Casper replied with a smile. "But look what you found!"

Slowly getting to his feet, Tyson looked around. "I think it found me. Hey look," he remarked, gesturing to something just out of Casper's line of sight. "The step you dislodged is down here. It must have landed on the trap door and smashed it open."

"I'm coming down," Casper said. Turning around, he got on all fours and slowly slid his legs into the hole. Supporting his weight on his hands, the young lad dropped carefully, momentarily hung by his hands, and then dropped down next to Tyson.

They were in a stoneworked chamber, roughly square, and empty except for a poorly made wooden ladder laying on the floor. Quite cool, it smelled dry and dusty and a thin layer of grime coated everything. Tyson had the presence of mind to check the chamber for any sort of footprints other than the marks he and Casper had made, but saw none. A single wooden door was set into the west wall of the chamber, resting slightly ajar.

"Well?" Tyson remarked, gesturing to the door. Casper's wide smile was answer enough. The blonde-haired lad grabbed the door's latch and pulled it open to reveal a corridor that extended into darkness.

Casper went back to the ladder on the floor and kicked off one of the end rungs. Picking it up, he turned to Tyson, smiled, and then looked back at the wooden rod in his hand. He spoke something spidery-sounding, and the piece of wood began to shine like a torch.

"I told you Belach taught me some things," Casper said. "Let's go."

Impressed, Tyson let Casper go first into the corridor. The light illuminated a fair distance, and they could see the corridor took a sharp turn to the south just ahead of them. Casper surged ahead and Tyson needed to jog to keep up with him.

"Be careful!" Tyson whispered. "This whole place could fall on our heads!"

"We're already out from under the tower," Casper replied. "We're under the hill now."

However, Casper still slowed as he came to the corner. Peering around, he turned back to Tyson with a grin. "Another door, this one's closed."

The two boys approached the doorway and Casper pulled on the latch. Disappointingly, it was locked, or jammed. Casper frowned and stared at it harshly, as though that would help.

"Don't you have any other tricks up your sleeve?" Tyson joked.

Casper grimaced. "I could light you on fire, how about that? What about you, can't your mighty Solzan open a door for us?"

Tyson grew quiet upon hearing Casper's tone, which sounded more like the senior Drake than the young son. "Hey, I was just kidding around."

Casper sighed. "I'm just frustrated. I was really expecting something down here, and here we are stopped by a locked door."

Tyson thought for a moment, and then rapped on the wood of the door. It felt dry and flaked under his knuckles. "We could break through it with a stone, I bet. It's really old and dry. We could make a hole big enough to reach through and unlock it from the other side."

Casper nodded. "Go get that stepstone, I'll wait here."

A few moments later, Tyson returned with the stone. It weighed about fifteen pounds and was two feet across, eight inches deep and about four inches thick. It was scratched and chipped, the markings fresh and white on it's darkened exterior. Hefting it over his head, Tyson targetted an area on the door just above the latch and hit the wood as hard as he could.

The vibration knocked the stone from his hands, but he had done significant damage to the door. He had checked the wooden door they had already passed through, and if this one was the same it was only one layer of wood about two inches thick. One strike with the stone had sheared off about a sixteenth of that thickness. Casper picked up the fallen stone and tried his hand at it, hitting the door four times before he dropped the step.

"It's working," Tyson said excitedly. "Let me try again."

Stronger in the upper body than Casper, Tyson was able to bash through the wood in a few more strikes, forming a small hole about the size of a copper coin - an "eagle" as it was called in William's Ford. Casper peered through, but only saw darkness.

Tyson continued to smash at the hole until it was large enough for one hand to reach through. Casper did so without thinking, reaching through and searching for the latch on the other side.

"It's cold in there," Casper remarked. "And the air feels damp."

"Hurry up, open it!"

Suddenly, Casper's eyes went wide and his arm jerked violently. He screamed. "Something's got me!" he yelled out, and began pulling back on his harm, trying to reclaim is hand from the dark room.

Tyson cried out as well, grabbing Casper's arm and hauling back on it. The hand popped free from the hole and the two boys stumbled back a few steps. Tyson turned, ready to run back the way they had come, but Casper stopped him with his laughter.

"Fooled you!" he chuckled, his eyes watering from the laughing.

Tyson hammered his friend in the shoulder. "You're the fool! You scared me half to death!"

"You're a little girl," Casper replied, still laughing. "Come on, I unlocked the door."

The chamber beyond the ruined door looked like a trove of treasure to the two boys. However, the treasure was only rotting beds, putrid devans and mouldering rugs. They had found the quarters that were kept for whomever manned this watch tower. Tyson made excited noises as he examined the rusting weapons lying on the floor near a collapsed rack. He picked up what was left of a morning star and the rusted chain snapped. The spiked ball hit the floor with a loud crack.

Casper hefted open the lid of a large trunk sitting at the foot of one of the bigger beds. A dank, musty smell rose up to meet him, and he went into a coughing fit. Once done, he shone the glowing stick down into the trunk.

"Aah," he said, disappointed. "Rot. Rot, rot and rotting rot."

Tyson picked up a somewhat sturdy-looking quarterstaff and went over to where Tyson leaned over the stinking trunk. Poking the end of the staff into the trunk, he dug through the piles of nasty fetid cloth until he felt something solid move against the bottom of the trunk.

"There's something _in_ there!" Tyson breathed, and tried to push away the ruined leather that lay over top of the hidden treasure. It was a small chest, barely six inches square, and three inches deep. Casper reached down and pulled it from the trunk, placing it on the stone floor. It was made from a dull gray metal, lighter than lead or iron. The latch on the chest opened easily, and Casper raised the lid, peering down on it's contents.

What lay inside were three long scrolls made from thin supple leather. Having both hands free now, Tyson gingerly pulled one of the scrolls out and unrolled it, the leather soft and forgiving.

"I can't believe this is in such good shape," Tyson said. Even the inside of the small chest was in fine condition, lined with a shining purple silk.

Marked on the leather scroll in sharp black ink was a map. The v-shape of the Blue Mountains was evident, though the map concentrated more on the area south of them, an area believed to be wild, untamed an evil. According to the map, it was heavily populated if the markings meant what Tyson thought they did - cities, towns, keeps, towers and fortresses. Following a line which meandered north through the mountains, Tyson and Casper were able to determine which marking was the tower they were now in. It seemed to be at the northern-most reach of whatever kingdom this map was detailing.

"This can't be right," Casper said. "There's nothing south of the Blue Mountains. Just deserts and dragons."

"Maybe there was, a long time ago," Tyson ventured. He re-rolled the map and pulled out another scroll. This one was covered in strange markings that neither he nor Casper could understand. That scroll went back as well, and Tyson pulled out the third. This, too, was covered in strange markings, but Casper seemed particularly interested in it.

"Belach can help me with this," he said, handing the glowing ladder rung to Tyson so he could re-roll the scroll and slide it into his own pack. The chest was closed, latched, and put into Tyson's pack.

The boys explored some more, jumping in excitement when Tyson discovered a scattering of silver "talons" on the floor under a rotting desk. It was more money than either of them had ever seen, and could easily buy them both some new adventuring gear. This, too, went into Tyson's pack, as Casper tried to keep his own as light as possible.

Tyson was about to remark that they should set up camp before it got dark outside, which would be soon, when something caught his attention. A tattered curtain hanging from the south wall seemed to ripple, and a light breeze whiffed against Tyson's cheek. Quarterstaff in hand again, he slowly walked towards the curtain while Casper poked through some ruined furniture looking for more coins. Reaching out with the end of the staff, Tyson moved the curtain to one side. The smell of death hit him as something moved towards him out of the darkness behind the curtain.

At first he though it was one of the elders from William's Ford, come to paddle them for being gone so long. Wisps of white hair flew about it's head and he caught the sight of yellowing teeth, but that's where the similarities ended.

Garbed in tatters, the thing moved forward jerkily. Tyson, shocked into silence, stumbled backward and held the staff up in front of himself defensively. He had learned a little about fighting from his father, but that had mostly been about defending himself from small kobolds. This thing was the size of a full-grown human adult. Patches of dried leather flaked from it's exposed skull, and shadowy eye sockets stared down at him. A toungeless mouth opened and made no sound, except for the chattering of teeth. An exposed skeletal structure covered only in rotten leathery chunks made up the rest of the abomination.

Finally, Tyson's voice worked, and the shriek was ear-splitting. Casper spun and let out a shout of his own, yelling something that Tyson didn't hear.

The skeleton swiped at Tyson, who dodged backward and then jabbed out weakly with the staff. It rapped off of the creature's chest, and Tyson fell back again. Casper shouted again.

"Cover your eyes!" he was yelling. Tyson did so, and even through his fingers he saw a dazzling burst of light. Dropping his hand down again, he saw the skeleton had stopped, it's skull moving back and forth as though confused.

"Hit it!" Casper yelled again. Tyson gripped the staff tightly as though he were playing pit-ball and swung it into the side of the skeleton's skull. The head shattered into dust and the rest of the skeleton collapsed to the floor in a clattering of brittle bones.

"Gods!" Tyson breathed, a chill settling at the base of his neck. "What was that?"

Casper crept up next to him. "Nice work, you smashed the abyss out of that thing."

"Okay, let's get out of here, _now_."

A shuffling noise from the curtain drew their attention, and the two boys turned to see two more humanlike figures emerge from the darkness. These creatures were quite fleshy, their eyes like those of a dead fish. Their lips sagged, exposing rotting green teeth and grotesquely swollen tongues. Neither of the creatures wore much of anything, and one could be seen clear through, as a large hole was present in it's abdomen. There was a soft plopping noise as something soft and wet fell from that hole. One made a noise, and the two boys turned and ran.

The corridor to the small chamber where the ladder lay seemed longer than before, and their legs didn't seem to want to respond properly. Somewhere along the way Tyson had dropped the quarterstaff and as they ran, the light that Casper had created winked out.

They were both screaming, and while Tyson tried to lift the ladder into place, Casper slammed the door shut and leaned against it with all his might. While Tyson struggled, there was a moment of silence when all that could be heard was the dancing wind above, and the ragged breaths of the two friends.

There was a bang against the door and Casper pushed harder. Tyson finally managed to get the ladder into place, and began to climb. "Come on!" he shouted.

"If I let go, they'll get through the door!" Casper cried back.

Tyson was half-way up the ladder. "You've got to move fast! Come on! Let the door go and come on!"

Tyson was now mostly out of the trap door, and Casper was alone in the chamber below. "Don't leave me!" he shouted, tears rolling down his face.

"I won't! Come on!" Tyson shouted. He picked up a fist-sized stone. "I'll throw rocks at them to slow them down. Now _climb_!"

Casper waited for another thud against the door, and then bolted for the ladder. He came into the circle of light filtering down from above, and Tyson hefted the stone, ready to throw it past Casper at the things below. More pit-ball skills being called into play.

There was a crash from below, and Casper looked over his shoulder, screaming. The creatures had bashed the door open and were heading for the rickety ladder. Casper was almost out, reaching for Tyson, when his eyes suddenly grew wide.

"Tyson," he said.

From above, Tyson's view of the creatures was blocked by his friend, and he had no clear shot. Casper abruptly stopped climbing, not moving up or down for a moment. Suddenly, the ladder split into pieces and the young boy disappeared down into the chamber again. Hot tears flooded down Tyson's face as he looked down to see the creatures clawing at his friend, who kicked and screamed and thrashed, trying to get free. Tyson threw the stone, but it was a poor throw and bounced ineffectively off the floor.

With surprising speed, the stinking creatures dragged Casper back down the corridor and into the darkness. The last thing Tyson heard before he blacked out was Casper shouting his name.


End file.
